


tell me when it's alright

by mullethyuck



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Alternate Universe - Hockey, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Blood and Gore, Hanahaki Disease, Hospitals, M/M, Sad with a Happy Ending, Temporary Character Death, Unrequited Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-06
Updated: 2019-04-06
Packaged: 2020-01-05 15:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,915
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18368813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mullethyuck/pseuds/mullethyuck
Summary: 5 times Donghyuck chokes up blood, and 1 time he doesn't.





	tell me when it's alright

**Author's Note:**

> shout out to my bby [lucie](https://twitter.com/soffthyuck) for encouraging me to write this because the world needs more jock hyuck content!!
> 
> also all my love to [raina](https://twitter.com/calicoline) and [steph](https://twitter.com/scoups_of_heony) for listening to me yell about this fic for WEEKS and a huge thank you to [didi](https://twitter.com/marknorens) for helping me with the ending because fluff is not my area of expertise oof
> 
> big ily's to all of them i would be nothing without them uwu
> 
> (also thanks paramore for the [title](https://youtu.be/V0hvzjyuZ5k) lmao)

01.

The first time it happens, Donghyuck doesn't know what hit him.

Well, actually, he does. It's kind of hard to miss a 200-pound mass of muscle and pads and razor sharp skates plowing into him at full speed, stick slamming against Donghyuck’s ribs as his shoulder hits the boards with a clack. After that, everything happens almost too fast for him to process.

One second, he's smashed against the boards, CK University’s number 30 right in his face, and it's not a particularly hard check (definitely not the worst hit he’s ever taken) but it does knock the wind out of him. The next second, his knees are hitting the ice, and something is gurgling inside his chest, and he feels like he can't breathe. He braces himself on his hands, staring down at the grooves his skates have made into the smooth surface of the ice, and gasps for air. His lungs feel...wrong, but he doesn't know how, exactly. Like maybe there’s something caught in them, something stopping them from working the way they should.

He coughs up blood, a huge puddle of it freezing to the ice beneath him. He wants to gag - he's never handled blood well - but he can't because he still can't fucking _breathe._

Somewhere off to his right, Renjun drops his gloves, rushing number 30 and grabbing him by the collar to steady himself. Donghyuck knows it’s Renjun because he’s yelling something in Chinese, which number 30 clearly doesn't understand, but Donghyuck has been around Renjun enough to comprehend that it's a lot of cursing. And at some point, Renjun swings a fist at number 30, and the other guy fights back, but it's more unsteady flailing than actual punching because that's just the nature of fighting on ice.

The rest of their teammates pair off, hugging each other as they watch the fight, and Donghyuck coughs up blood again. A medic is trying to make his way toward Donghyuck, but the refs still haven't stopped the fight and Renjun’s skates are getting dangerously close to Donghyuck’s hands where they're still splayed out on the ice. He doesn't feel the cold through his gloves, but he wishes he could. It would be grounding.

As the last of the second wave of blood dribbles from his mouth, he feels a hand on his shoulder. “Hyuck?” Jeno says softly, soothingly, as Donghyuck nears hyperventilation. “Hyuck, can you stand up for me?”

Donghyuck nods shakily, grabbing onto Jeno’s forearm for support while he slowly finds his balance. At some point the fight had been broken up, and now Renjun is just staring at Donghyuck like the rest of his team, busted lip long forgotten. (For what it's worth, though, number 30 looks worse off; Donghyuck can already see the beginning of a black eye blooming across his left cheekbone.)

Jeno skates Donghyuck over to the medic, who escorts him off the ice, and Jeno kind of looks like he wants to follow, but he hesitates for a second too long and then he's being shuffled out of the way so the Zamboni crew can clean up the blood. Donghyuck just presses his eyes closed, focuses on his breathing. In for four, out for eight. In for four, out for eight. In for four, out for -

“What happened?” the medic asks, easing Donghyuck down onto a metal table.

“He checked me,” Donghyuck says dumbly.

The medic frowns. “Right. But where did he hit you?” Donghyuck points to his right shoulder and his ribs. The medic gets his jersey and pads out of the way and feels around a bit, checking for broken bones, but finds no cause for concern. “Nowhere else?”

Donghyuck shakes his head. “Nope. It wasn't even that hard, either.”

The medic looks unconvinced, leveling Donghyuck with a sharp look. “Then why did you cough up blood?” He listens to Donghyuck’s heart, measures his breathing. “Were you feeling well before the game?”

“I don't know, but yeah, I was fine earlier.”

“Okay, we need to bring you to a hospital. Can you walk? You seem to be breathing better,” he adds after a couple more deep breaths with his stethoscope pressed to Donghyuck’s chest.

Donghyuck nods. “Yeah, I - my chest feels better.” And it does, which is weird, because the horrible feeling of his lungs being too full of _something_ left as quickly as it had come. 

“Okay. Good. Stand up, let's get you out of here.” He offers a shoulder for Donghyuck to lean on, which Donghyuck is grateful for even if he doesn't necessarily need the help.

After what feels like hours, Donghyuck is sitting in a hospital bed waiting for the results from his X-rays, generally feeling very tired and very bored and very curious whether or not his team ended up winning their game. He wants to text the group chat, but his phone is on a table across the room and he really can't be bothered to walk five feet to go get it. Plus, his mom is probably blowing up his phone right now. He'd bet money that Jeno texted her about what happened the second he stepped off the ice, and Donghyuck doesn't have the energy for that right this moment.

There's a light knock on the door before the doctor lets herself in, standing next to Donghyuck’s bed while she skims his chart. “Hi Donghyuck, I’m Dr. Kang. I have some good news and some bad news,” she starts. Donghyuck doesn't know how to feel about that.

“Good news first?” he offers, because he needs to brace himself for whatever the bad news could possibly be. Maybe he won't ever play hockey again, maybe he's dying of internal bleeding, maybe -

“Well, you don't have any internal bleeding. And really, you don't have any injuries that will prevent you from getting right back out on the ice,” the doctor says encouragingly.

Donghyuck’s brow furrows. “Okay. So?” _What else could there possibly be?_

Dr. Kang taps her pen against the clipboard, looking at Donghyuck like she's sizing him up. “Have you heard of Hanahaki disease?”

And, of course he has. Hasn't everyone? He isn't sure what that has to do with anything, though. He just stutters out a breathy, “Yeah.” Dr. Kang sticks an X-ray to the wall, flicking a switch as the backlight turns on. And Donghyuck nearly chokes on his spit because there, snaking through the gaps between his ribs, are _flowers_. “What the fuck,” he deadpans. 

“Lee Donghyuck, you have stage one Hanahaki disease.”

* * *

 

02. 

The second time it happens, Donghyuck calls the only person in the world who he trusts enough to tell about this.

“Jen?” he says as soon as the line picks up. “I need you to come over.”

“Sure,” Jeno says, because he can tell Donghyuck is scared, and even if he couldn't he'd probably do whatever Donghyuck asked anyway.

The stupid thing is, there's literally no reason for this to be happening right now. Five minutes ago, Donghyuck had been sitting on his bed, drowning the world out with headphones while he halfassed his calculus homework. It came out of nowhere, that feeling of being strangled from the inside out, and he hadn't even been thinking of _him_ so honestly, what the fuck.

Jeno’s dorm is only three rooms down, so when he lets himself into Donghyuck’s room and knocks on the bathroom door, Donghyuck is still throwing up blood into the toilet (and on the floor, because it's hard to control blood splatter when it's gushing out of your lungs at high velocity).

“Hyuck? Can I come in?” he asks, even though Donghyuck can't very well answer at the moment. For what it's worth, he does try to respond, but it comes out as more of a gurgle than anything discernible as actual words. Jeno just takes that as a yes and steps into the bathroom, closing the door behind him.

He kneels on the cold tile, rubbing soothing circles into Donghyuck’s back, ignoring the drops of blood that are bound to stain his shoes as Donghyuck retches some more. It’s a good five minutes before Donghyuck’s breathing has evened out, and he gasps in a desperate attempt to make up for all the oxygen he's been missing out on while he threw his guts up. Or, not his guts exactly, but there is something floating in the blood and toilet water. 

“Is that a flower?” Jeno asks, because apparently he notices it too.

Donghyuck stares at it, a tiny lone flower drenched in red. He thinks it was white, once. “Yeah.” 

Jeno looks at him, eyes full of something that Donghyuck has never seen in them before; he tries not to psychoanalyze it, because he's panicky enough as it is. “Are you gonna tell me who it is? You don't have to.”

“I -” Donghyuck starts, then realizes he doesn't know how to put it into words. He's never actually told anyone about his big fat crush on his best friend Mark Lee before - though, all things considered, he guesses it's more than a crush at this point. He settles for, “It's Mark,” because that’s really all he can handle for now.

Jeno looks like Donghyuck just kicked his cat. “Shit, Hyuckie. I'm sorry.” He pulls Donghyuck into his lap, leaning back against the tub, and runs his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair like he knows Donghyuck likes.

And he is sorry, really, for a lot of reasons. One of them being that Mark and Jaemin are basically dating (which is probably the biggest one), not that Donghyuck needs anybody to tell him that, because if he had any chance of Mark loving him back he wouldn't be in this situation in the first place. Jeno really doesn't want to dwell on the other reasons he's sorry, because it's not the time or the place. That wouldn't be fair to Donghyuck.

“My chest hurts,” Donghyuck can only whisper, because his throat is still burning.

Something in Jeno’s chest shatters then, too. “I know,” is all he says, because that's all he can say, really. “I'm sorry.”

“Why do you keep apologizing?”

Jeno can't see Donghyuck’s face because it's buried into his chest, but he can hear the strain in his voice. “Because I’m sorry.”

“It's not your fault.” Of course it isn't, because if Donghyuck loved Jeno instead, he wouldn't be crying on his bloody bathroom floor right now. 

“I know. Doesn't mean I don't feel bad,” he says, softly scratching the nape of Donghyuck’s neck with his nails. Donghyuck closes his eyes, evening out his breathing, focusing on the grounding pressure of Jeno’s touch. “Do you wanna talk about it?” Donghyuck hums noncommittally. “You know I won’t make you talk about anything you don't want to, but some people say it helps.”

Neither one of them really believe that, because if it did help then nobody would die from this disease. But Donghyuck sighs, sagging further into Jeno’s chest, and inhales deeply like he's bracing himself (he is). “I just - I don't know how to explain it, Jen. He’s just so sweet, and thoughtful, and smart, and talented, and his laugh lights up the whole room, and he just has this pure love of life that's kind of inspiring...and I feel like I've known him my whole life, even though I’ve known you way longer.” That hurts a little, but Jeno just nods. He gets it, in a way. Or well, he tries to. “Which all sounds so cliche and dumb and definitely not serious enough to have a disease over but -”

“Hey, hey. Look at me.” Jeno cuts him off, propping his hand underneath Donghyuck’s chin so that their eyes meet. He wipes the tears off of Donghyuck’s face, swiping his thumbs over Donghyuck’s cheekbones a few times while they just stare at each other. When he has Donghyuck’s full attention, he says, “I get that you might feel like it's...excessive, or whatever, but it's not your fault you have this disease, either. It's nobody’s fault.” Even if Jeno kind of wants to punch Mark for not falling in love with Donghyuck. “Shit just happens sometimes, and it sucks, it really does. But I promise you I'll do anything I can to make this easier for you, okay? Just say the word, and I'm here.” Donghyuck gives him a watery smile, and Jeno is a millisecond away from bursting into tears himself, but he takes a deep breath and forces himself to keep going. “If you wanna tell the others, I’ll help you, or if you're not ready for that you can just talk to me, that's fine too. I don't know what this is like for you so I can't really give you much advice, but I support you no matter what you decide. I’ll always be here for you, you know that, right? We’ve been together since we were, like, four. This isn't gonna change that, yeah? I’m right here.” He gives Donghyuck one of his signature eye smiles, because he knows it always cheers Donghyuck up, even if only a little. And even if he's crying too much for his smile to really be all that convincing in the first place.

Donghyuck is sobbing again, so he probably can't see Jeno’s face that well, anyway. “I love you, Jen,” is all he can choke out, and Jeno pulls him back in for another hug. 

 _Not the way I wish you did,_  Jeno’s brain traitorously reminds him, and he feels like shit for even thinking that at a time like this.

* * *

03.

The third time it happens, Jeno isn't there, but Mark is.

They’re in Mark’s dorm, Donghyuck sprawled out on his bed like a starfish while Mark spins around in his wheelie chair, knees knocking against his desk every so often. They've long since given up the pretense of doing homework, textbooks and papers strewn across the carpet in a haphazard pile. Mark’s been rambling about going home to Canada for spring break for like, an hour now and Donghyuck may love him but he really doesn't care that much about Tim Horton’s.

“Mark,” Donghyuck cuts in. “Can we please do something? I'm so bored my brain is gonna melt.” 

Mark rolls his eyes teasingly, pushing off of his desk to get a particularly good spin on his chair. “You’re so dramatic.” 

“Says the man who just waxed poetic about a double double for thirty minutes,” Donghyuck snorts. 

Mark starts to protest, but clamps his mouth shut. “Hey, are you okay? You don't look so good.” He kicks a leg out to stop himself spinning, searching Donghyuck’s face for...something. And honestly, Donghyuck is not okay. He's so not okay because his chest feels tight like someone is squeezing his lungs from the inside and that can only mean one thing. And this cannot be happening here, or now.

He opens his mouth to say something, probably mutter an excuse about going to the bathroom, but that ends up being a huge mistake because as soon as he does, blood surges out all over Mark’s bedsheets.

“ _Hyuck?_ ” Mark sounds like he's one second away from having a stroke. “Holy shit, are you - what's wrong?” He’s hovering over Donghyuck now, hands fluttering around him like he doesn't know what he should be doing. He probably doesn't. Donghyuck can't exactly explain anything at the moment, though, so he tries to get up and rush to the bathroom, only for Mark to stop him with a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Don't move, you'll make it worse,” he says, and he still sounds distressed but considerably less shocked now, like maybe his instincts are kicking in. Even if Donghyuck has no idea what kind of instincts are necessary to help your best friend who's throwing up blood all over your bedroom.

Mark blindly reaches for his phone, which is somewhere on the floor underneath the scattered abandoned papers. “I'm gonna call an -”

Donghyuck just groans in between heaves, and then blood is cascading out of his mouth again, but this time a handful of tiny flowers come with it. And again, and again, till there's a small heap of petals in the middle of Mark’s blood-soaked bed. And it really is soaked, because the spot by Donghyuck’s left hand where he's propping himself up is starting to form a puddle. It’s fucking gross, and probably a health hazard, and Mark is definitely gonna get fined for this. Mark stares at him, white as his sheets used to be, hand frozen halfway up to his ear. Someone picks up on the other line, probably the emergency operator, but Mark doesn't seem to register that fact. He blurts out a single word, and that word breaks Donghyuck more than the burning sensation in his lungs ever will.

“Hanahaki?”

Donghyuck looks up at him, blood-smeared lips turning up in a sad smirk. “I guess it was only a matter of time till you found out,” he says in between laboured breaths.

Mark hangs up his phone, tossing it back into some corner of his room, and helps Donghyuck sit up, leaning Donghyuck’s head against his shoulder. He ignores the way the smudge of blood on Donghyuck’s cheek transfers onto his shirt. “Who is it?” he asks softly, lips moving against the crown of Donghyuck’s head. Donghyuck doesn't say anything, and he takes the hint. “It's cool if you don't want to tell me, but you really should tell _someone,_ at least. And for what it's worth, whoever it is, they're a total idiot for not loving you back.”

Donghyuck can't help but cry, because the irony of it all is just too cruel.

* * *

 

04.

The fourth time it happens, Donghyuck quits hockey.

Well, technically it's not the fourth time, because it’s pretty much a weekly occurrence by now. But it's the fourth time it happens with other people around, and that's really all Donghyuck is concerned about. Mark and Jeno already know, and he definitely doesn't want this to turn into a bigger thing than it already is.

But given the nature of the disease, it's kind of inevitable his teammates would find out sooner or later. So far the timing has been miraculously lucky; if he isn't in his dorm room, he usually has enough time to rush to a bathroom before anything happens. But his luck was bound to run out eventually, and he figures he never had much to begin with considering he has Hanahaki at all.

It starts out like any other practice. They're running drills, with Jisung in the crease, and Donghyuck is set on perfecting his backhand because it's been a little weak lately. Renjun and Jaemin are working on their puck handling at the other end of the ice, chirping each other every five seconds like they always do. Mark and Jeno are practicing slapshots, supposedly, but they're mostly just humming pucks at each other to see who gets the fewest bruises. At one point Mark slashes Jeno’s shin for nearly hitting him in the face with a particularly wild shot. Jeno just laughs, eyes crinkling into tiny moons.

Donghyuck circles around the goal after missing yet another shot to the five-hole, and he must look as frustrated as he feels because Jisung taps his skate with the tip of his stick, prompting Donghyuck to skid to a stop. “Hey, you okay?” Jisung asks, because he’s more perceptive than he lets on. He wouldn't be a goalie if he wasn't.

“Yeah, I’m great,” Donghyuck lies. He's starting to get a bit lightheaded, but this wouldn't be the first time he's overworked himself.

“It's okay to take a break, y’know.”

“I know. I promise I’m fine, kid, don't worry.” Donghyuck flashes him the most convincing smile he can force.

“I’m only two years younger than you, dick,” Jisung shoots back as Donghyuck speeds off to steal Jeno’s puck.

He's halfway there when something lurches in his chest, and before he can even react he's vomiting blood approximately everywhere.

“Holy shit,” Mark says the same time Jaemin yells “What the hell?” and Jeno swerves out of the way because the blood currently rushing out of Donghyuck’s lungs is headed directly for him. Donghyuck wants to apologize, but he can't since he's still choking up blood and flowers and generally struggling to get a good breath, but Jeno knows it wasn’t intentional anyway. Renjun and Jisung are trying to figure out what the fuck to do (which mostly means Jisung is panicking and Renjun is trying to calm him down so they can find a solution) while Jaemin calls their coach over and Mark and Jeno hover around Donghyuck. They're the only ones not shocked by the flowers that are lodged in the frozen blood, but they aren't much help, either. It's still disorienting to see your best friend coughing up what essentially amounts to a bloody garden, even if you know it's coming.

Coach Seo skates over, and Donghyuck has more or less stopped throwing up, but he's still winded. “Can you move?” the coach asks, gingerly laying a hand on Donghyuck’s shoulder. Donghyuck just nods. “Cool, grab my arm,” he says before turning to the rest of the boys and telling them to get back to their drills, assuring them Donghyuck will be fine. He leads Donghyuck over to the dasher board, and it looks like he's trying to stay calm for Donghyuck’s sake but it's clear he's a little out of his depth. (To be fair, so is Donghyuck. They all are.)

“Is Hyuck really gonna be okay?” Jaemin asks no one in particular as Donghyuck and Coach Seo haltingly make their way off the ice. It's painfully obvious that Donghyuck is still weak from his own body turning against him.

Jeno and Mark send each other a look, and Mark says, “He will be.” Jeno isn't so sure, but he shuts his mouth and nods anyway. Solidarity, or whatever. Plus it's not like he wants to entertain the possibility that Donghyuck might not get the surgery to remove his flowers. 

“Do you know who it is?” Renjun wonders. “Maybe we could help.”

Mark shakes his head and it suddenly hits Jeno that this is the saddest he’s ever seen Mark, who's usually all smiles and soft giggles. Now he just looks like he wants to cry. “He wouldn't tell me.” 

Renjun cocks his eyebrow at Jeno, who cuts him a glance because it just isn’t his place to say. Jisung is weirdly silent, so Renjun diverts his attention to him instead of pressing the issue. “You okay?”

“I'm not the one who just barfed blood everywhere,” he replies in a daze.

As if on cue, their assistant coach appears out of nowhere at that, skating over to their little huddle. “Sorry boys, we’re gonna have to get a clean up crew in here since the flowers are frozen to the ice. Practice is over.”

They’ve never gotten off the ice faster.

“Dude, do you think Hyuck will get the surgery? It’s getting pretty bad,” Mark says to Jeno in what is possibly the biggest understatement of the year. 

Jeno yanks on his laces, because he has nothing else to take his anxiety out on now that he can't launch pucks at Mark’s body any more. “I don't know. Last time I asked him about it he was still super determined not to get it, but it's hard to even talk to him about it because he gets so defensive.”

“Yeah,” is all Mark says in response.

“Somebody needs to help him,” Jisung interjects softly. “He's in so much pain.” Jeno isn't sure if he means emotionally or physically, but in the end it doesn't matter much because both are true.

“Sungie, there's nothing we can do,” Jaemin says sadly from beside him. “The only cure is surgery, and if Hyuck doesn't want it we can't make him.”

“We could just make whoever he loves love him back.”

“If only it were that simple,” Renjun mutters dejectedly. Jeno and Mark don't say anything, for very different reasons.

Coach Seo suddenly strides into the locker room as they're all stripping out of their pads, a resigned looking Donghyuck in tow. It's unsettling to see Donghyuck in such a state, but they've also seen him puking his guts out so it's still an improvement in a lot of ways.

The coach nudges Donghyuck lightly, flashing him a valiant attempt at an encouraging smile. Donghyuck inhales sharply, puffing his cheeks out as he lets out his breath. “So, Coach and I talked. And...I’m quitting the team.” A chorus of appalled noises echoes around the room as his teammates freeze in various states of undress. They all look kind of like they've been punched. “Don't,” Donghyuck says before they can properly protest. “I can't skate, I can't focus, I'm weaker than I’ve ever been - put Chenle on the first line instead. It’s better this way.”

“Hyuck, we’ve never played on a line without you,” Mark says dolefully. And if he looked like he wanted to cry earlier, now he looks like he's about five seconds away from having a full on meltdown. 

Donghyuck crosses his arms, but Jeno can't tell if it's a defense mechanism or an act of defiance. “Well you're gonna have to, Canada. The team trainer said I’m not allowed back on the ice till I get the surgery.”

“You’re getting the surgery?” Jeno asks, and mentally kicks himself for sounding so happy about it.

“Nah. So I’m quitting.”

The collective objections of his teammates get lost in the disorder that follows, but Donghyuck is unfazed. Or, well, he pretends to be. Jeno knows how much hockey means to him. If he's giving it up for a boy, Mark Lee must really be something special.

* * *

 

05.

The last time it happens, Donghyuck dies.

Which, given the circumstances, isn't all that surprising. It's been months since he was first diagnosed, and he hasn't done much of anything to combat the symptoms - not that there was much to do, anyway. Now, all he can do is lay in bed and puke into a bucket he keeps on his nightstand, and it's honestly really fucking depressing. He can't eat because he can't keep food down, he can't sleep because he can't stop retching long enough to get any decent rest, and he can't even cry anymore because he's too emotionally drained. He's numb, almost, except for the constant burn in his throat and the pressure he feels in his ribcage every time he takes a breath. It’s not as bad as he expected it to be, considering the fact he's being smothered from within.

Jeno’s the only one who visits him. Donghyuck hasn't been to classes in weeks, for obvious reasons, and he hasn't been on the ice for even longer; the rest of his teammates text him regularly, but they never come to his room. It’s hard to watch your friend die. It's harder to be the friend who's dying, though, but Donghyuck won't hold it against them.

“Hey,” Jeno says as he sits gingerly on the edge of Donghyuck’s bed. He's so careful around Donghyuck now, like he's scared he'll break him. (Donghyuck would argue that it's a moot point because he's already broken.)

Donghyuck swallows heavily around the metallic taste in his mouth that's become weirdly grounding in its constancy. “Jen,” is all he can get out before he grabs his bucket and empties his lungs. The flowers have gotten bigger, stems hitting the bottom of the bucket with a sickening thump muffled only by the pool of blood at the bottom.

Jeno does what he always does, the only thing he can do; he rubs Donghyuck’s back soothingly and rambles about nothing just to latch onto some semblance of normalcy. “I totally bombed the physics test this morning,” he says as he runs his fingers through Donghyuck’s hair - which is gross, by the way, because showering has become difficult, too. It's hard to muster up the energy to wash yourself when you’re spewing blood out of your mouth and you're sleep deprived and haven't eaten in days and also can't breathe. Donghyuck passed out once, trying to shampoo his hair. Jeno found him twenty minutes later. “Dr. Kim loves me, though, so I think he'll let me do extra credit. Renjun aced it no problem, like always. I wish he'd let me study with him because it would probably help a lot to have him there to kick my ass when I get off topic, but you know how he is. I just get stuck studying with Jaemin and he's way too distracting, we never get anything done. Literally last week we were in the library doing our Comp homework and he -”

Donghyuck cuts him off with a death grip on his bicep and Jeno tenses up immediately. “Hyuck?” Donghyuck can't say anything, so he points to his throat. He's wheezing, struggling for air, and Jeno pales instantly. “Holy fuck, can you breathe?” he blurts, because he used to think Donghyuck was suffocating every five seconds and it got a bit excessive, so now he makes it a point to ask. So far the answer has only ever been yes, but now Donghyuck shakes his head almost imperceptibly and Jeno erupts into a flurry of panicked motion. 

It takes him all of half a second to phone for an ambulance, and then he's firing off the address and dorm room number in record time. Once he's sure that help is on the way, he pulls the pillow out from underneath Donghyuck’s head, propping him up with an arm behind his back and shifting him into a sitting position. It doesn't make much of a difference, but there's not much else Jeno can do. He checks Donghyuck’s pulse every 30 seconds, just like he read about on the internet.

After two minutes pass, he presses his fingers gently to the side of Donghyuck’s neck, just below his jaw, and feels nothing.

The paramedics burst through the door at just that moment, and Jeno knows he must look unhinged because he _is_ and he can barely stop sobbing long enough to explain what happened. Or, well, maybe explain is a strong word. He chokes out a garbled, “Hanahaki,” and then hyperventilates from the shock of it all, but the paramedics know what he means.

Everything after that is a blur. Jeno’s vaguely aware of someone moving Donghyuck to the floor to perform CPR, and the entire situation is horrifying, but at the same time he can't look away because somehow he's still hoping that Donghyuck will suddenly sit up and tell him everything is fine. But everything is absolutely not fine, and Jeno’s shaking so bad he can't stand and a paramedic has to help him into the ambulance while they load Donghyuck into it on a stretcher. Jeno thinks someone tells him they got Donghyuck breathing again, but his overstimulated brain doesn't register a single word. He just nods, or at least he thinks he does, and he doesn't let go of Donghyuck’s hand the whole way to the hospital.

When they get there, he has to let go, and he cries harder now because what if this is it? What if his last encounter with the boy he’s been trying to save for months now is in an emergency room waiting area with clammy hands and a tear-streaked face and words that Donghyuck didn't hear?

“I love you, Hyuck. Please come back to me.”

He does come back, eventually. The doctors stabilize him, by some miracle, and Jeno sits there against the cold plastic of a waiting room chair for at least an eternity. When the nurse comes out and says Donghyuck is awake and wants to see him, Jeno thinks he feels his soul leave his body. He can't tell if it's from relief or something else, but he doesn't have time to dwell on it because the nurse is walking away and he's not about to stay away from Donghyuck any longer than he has to.

She leads him silently through a maze of hallways, depositing him at the door to Donghyuck’s room, and leaves after assuring him she's there if they need anything. Jeno doesn't realize he's opened the door and stepped in till he's staring at Donghyuck hooked up to about a million wires and a ventilator and he feels his knees buckle beneath him. Donghyuck lifts a shaky hand, barely, and Jeno clings to it like a lifeline. He’s kneeling by the bed, and he isn't sure when that happened but he's eye level with Donghyuck now and he can feel Donghyuck’s pulse where his thumb presses into his wrist and Donghyuck is _alive_ and that's all he cares about.

“Hyuck -” he tries, but his voice is too thick from the tears. He clears his throat, blinks the moisture from his eyes. “Hyuck. I thought you were dead.”

“I was. For two minutes,” Donghyuck says slowly. It's a lot of work talking around the tube shoved down his throat.

“You idiot,” Jeno says as he presses his forehead to Donghyuck’s shoulder. “Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you killing yourself over this?” Jeno asks, because he's so fucking done beating around the bush.

Donghyuck looks at him funny, like maybe he hadn't actually considered this suicide. “I’m not trying to kill myself.”

“Whether you're trying to or not, you are. Is he worth it? Is loving Mark Lee _really_ worth as much as your life?”

Something flashes across Donghyuck’s face then, and it looks a little like fear, but also maybe awakening. “I don’t want to die. I'm scared of dying, but I’m scared of losing Mark, too.”

Jeno counts the beats of Donghyuck’s heart against his thumb. _He’s alive. Everything is okay, because Donghyuck is okay. He’s alive. Please stay alive._ “You lose him either way. Don't throw your life away for someone who will never love you back.”

“What if no one ever loves me back?” His voice is fainter now, like he's getting weaker.

Panic flares up in Jeno’s chest, for a lot of reasons. _Hold on for me, Hyuck._ “Someone will.”

Donghyuck frowns at him, or at least he tries to around the damn tube. “How do you know that?” It’s barely a whisper.

“Because I already do.” _I always have._

* * *

 

+01. 

When Donghyuck steps out of his calculus lecture at the ungodly hour of 10am, Jeno is already waiting for him outside the door.

Jeno has his airpods in, because he thinks they make him look cool, and he's almost imperceptibly bobbing his head along to the music. He's looking at his phone too, probably watching cute cat compilations again, and Donghyuck is standing right in front of his face before he even notices his boyfriend.

“Hey,” Jeno says, yanking his airpods out and beaming at Donghyuck. “How was calc?” He shoves his phone in his pocket, reaching out to lace their fingers together as they walk out of the building side by side.

Donghyuck groans dramatically. “It was boring as shit, like always. Why exactly do I have to learn proofs, again?”

Jeno laughs airily at him. “You don't. You could've taken algebra.”

“Yeah, but the only lecture that was still available was at 8am. That's a whole _hour_ earlier than calc.”

“Was the extra hour of sleep really worth it?”

“No, not at all.” He draws his lips into an exaggerated pout. “It’s still better than science, though.”

They walk across the quad, dodging a stray frisbee and a cluster of students rushing to classes in the process. Jeno squeezes Donghyuck’s hand lightly out of excitement, which earns him a weird look from Donghyuck because his boyfriend still has no idea what Jeno has planned for him.

At some point between the cafeteria and the library, it clicks. (Donghyuck’s smart, so he was bound to figure it out before Jeno could do his full reveal. Jeno kind of saw this coming.) “Wait, are we going to the rink?” he asks softly, a little dazed. The hopeful lilt to his question is absolutely endearing.

“I mean, I wanted it to be a surprise, but yeah.”

“Jen, I know the way to the rink.” Donghyuck smiles up at him, and Jeno’s never seen him look so fond. He doesn't say anything else, though, so at least he's letting Jeno have his moment even if he must have figured out what's coming by now. 

They walk in comfortable silence the rest of the way to the rink, which is really only a couple minutes but it sort of feels like an eternity because Jeno is about a heartbeat away from just blurting out the good news. Donghyuck swings their hands between them as they walk, mindlessly humming some song that Jeno can't remember the name of, totally unbothered. They walk through the doors of the rink, the cold air a refreshing break from the heat of summer as it hits their faces, and Jeno all but drags Donghyuck to the locker room in anticipation.

“Get dressed,” Jeno instructs. They change into their workout clothes, because as much as Jeno wants to share the good news immediately he also wants to make sure they have a clean outfit to change into afterward - he's never been a fan of wearing sweaty clothes to class, and neither has Donghyuck. (And he knows once Donghyuck hears what Jeno has to say, he won't want to leave the rink until he absolutely has to, so sweating is kind of inevitable.)

When Donghyuck changes his shirt, Jeno gets the briefest glimpse of the rugged scar that runs down his sternum, and it gives Jeno the sudden urge to kiss it even though he knows the pain is long gone and the wound has long since healed in more ways than one. He's always been protective, and maybe all Donghyuck has been through made him a little more so. But then they're ready, and Donghyuck is grabbing his skates like Jeno told him to, and they're walking out toward the ice and Jeno can almost _feel_ the joy radiating off of Donghyuck. Or maybe Donghyuck is just vibrating a little, it's hard to tell.

“Hyuckie, calm down,” Jeno urges as Donghyuck pulls him briskly onto center ice, skating a loop around him before Jeno stops him with an arm around his waist. “Hey, let me do this,” he says softly, and Donghyuck stills. He looks at Jeno with his wondering wide eyes, and the reflection of the LEDs overhead makes them look like they hold galaxies.

Jeno shifts nervously, because as much as he imagined the moment Donghyuck found out, he hadn't actually considered how he would tell him. He wants it to be special, like it is in the movies, with some sort of big dramatic gesture and romantic flair. But drama is Donghyuck’s forte, not his, so he just takes a steadying breath as he meets Donghyuck’s eyes. They're so much lighter than they were a couple months ago. Jeno missed that sparkle. “You're cleared to play again,” he says unceremoniously, because it's not like the delivery changes the meaning, and really he just wants Donghyuck to know.

“Are you serious?” is the response he gets, Donghyuck’s mouth falling open into a little O.

Jeno can't help the adoring smile that breaks out onto his face. “Yeah. You can start right now, if you want.” 

Donghyuck answers by twisting out of Jeno’s grip and lapping the rink several times at full speed, wondrous laugh echoing against the boards. Jeno’s enchanted, frozen where he stands; Donghyuck has always had that effect on him, and he never looks more beautiful than he does on the ice. Jeno just stands there planted at center ice, spinning around in his spot so he doesn't miss a single second of Donghyuck’s celebratory laps. At some point Donghyuck comes back to him, playfully spraying him with ice as he slides to a stop.

“Thank you,” he says softly as Jeno makes a big show of pretending to be mad while wiping the snow off his pants. “You didn't have to do this.” 

“I know,” Jeno says simply. “But I know how much this means to you, so I figured - I don't know, maybe you'd want some time alone? With...the ice?”

“You better leave, then.” Donghyuck smirks at him. “Wouldn't want to interrupt my quality time with the rink.”

Jeno can feel himself blushing, and he wishes there was a way to make it stop. “Shut up. You know what I meant.”

“I do, and I love you for it.” Donghyuck wraps his arms around Jeno’s waist in a hug and squeezes as tight as he can. “Even if you're a dumbass.”

“Maybe, but I'm _your_ dumbass,” Jeno shoots back as he presses a kiss to Donghyuck’s forehead.

“I’m glad you are,” Donghyuck says, and this is the moment that Jeno finds peace.

For once he doesn't worry about whether he's just a replacement for Mark, or if encouraging Donghyuck to get the surgery was the best thing to do, or wonder what would've happened if Donghyuck had never loved him back. For now, he just takes Donghyuck’s outstretched hand and enjoys the moment. They only have an hour till their next class, but they have forever after that.


End file.
